Earth Spirit

8/6/2019 Earth Spirit

1/18

EARTH-SPIRIT; OR,THE SPOLIATION

A Play for Earth Day

by

BOBBY GRIFFITH


2/18

1990 by Bobby Griffith


3/18

(The bare stage represents a clearcut area of a forest. TheCHORUS is seated at the back or to one side of the playingarea. Enter a TRAVELER, perhaps riding a bicycle.)

TRAVELERInspringtime!When the gray clouds of March are splitBy the April sun, its time to hang upMy tie and jacket, roll upMy sleeves, and ride into the woods,Far from the busy living death of machines.

Car horns, hot asphalt, concrete, and artificial stoneAll these have I cast off like a dried-up huskAnd pedaling up into the woods, I riseReborn miles above the citys debris.The air is clearer here, and the higher I climb,The more the rhythms seem to harmonize.

I have visited this wood often since a dozen summers ago, but something today doesnt feelquite right.

Why do no birds sing?A waterfall used to splash here, but nowThe river has run dry. This roadWinds through the shadows of oak trees, hickory, and towering pine,But the rustle of their leaves seems somehow diminished.

No animals scurry; no glassy eyesGlint shyly from the shadows.Is this the forest I have known?

CHORUSTraveler, step beyond the curtain of these trees.The forest has vanished, and we are the spirits ofThe life that was.No rivers flow,No grass grows;The mountaincover has been ripped away,

And when the rains fall, our once rich soil flows down the road like blood.

TRAVELERAm I still on planet earth?Once I step beyond that Potemkin village of living trees, I wander among a ghastly

moonscapedesolate, vast, and empty;A desert where once a thick forest stood.


4/18

What has happened here? Has the earthBeen struck by some hideous cometOr meteor, a terrible messenger from the darkness

Of space delivering its message of doomIn the middle of Eden? Or has there beenA war in this place, perhaps some tacticalError; has some general dropped a bombInches away from where I liveAnd I remained ignorant of the just cause?What creature had such power to destroy?Who had the will and means to do it?

(Enter MADWOMAN.)

CHORUSThe sun pours out the blood of a waning day.Who will sing when all the birds have flown away?

MADWOMANAll creatures must die to live again:The forest rises from its own ashes like a phoenix;And from where the mountain lion spills the blood of his preyA flower grows.The world turns in an endless cycle of birth and death,And watered by my own tears, my heart blossomsLike a rose.

But when love diesThe wheel stops,The impotent clouds pass over,The blind soil yields only memories,And the fire spells an end to it all.

I once wept for those who foughtOn this now barrenSoil, but now my eyes are dryAs dry as these twoEmpty, ineffectual breasts.

Desolate and blind,I wander in my madness.

TRAVELERMy eyes are not dry, not blind,My heart shudders as I wonder what happened here.And who are you? Tell me the name


5/18

Of the madwoman who wanders this desolationLike a ghost.

MADWOMANYou?You dare ask myName?More fitting I should askYou yours.How dare you comeHere!What further destruction can you wreak?Can you not see theFaceOf unavoidable doom?What is thereLeftTo destroy?What can you do but spitIn my face,And scoff?

TRAVELERYou do me a grave injustice, old woman.I am no threat to you. When I lastVisited this land, many months ago,

There was a mighty forest standing here.Now the desolation brings tears to my eyes.What can be the reason for this?You seem to know somethingtell me then,Old woman: who are you, and what has becomeOf the forest that once gave me such joy?

MADWOMANWho am I?How can I say?I am a creature of many facesLook!

Tat-tat-tat-tat!Tat-tat-tat!I am the red-cockaded woodpeckerMaking my nest in those trees at the edge of lifeLive pines ready to die.Tat-tat-tat-tat!I bore into the bark with my chisel-like bill


6/18

Extract the insects with my sticky-barbed tongueSlurp!Tat-tat-tat!

TRAVELERYou must be madder than I thought,To think yourself a bird,And yet to my mortal eyesYou do resemble a red-cockaded woodpecker.But tell me, how can you live in this waste area?

MADWOMANI cannot live here, nor can any of my kind.I am but a spirit of a woodpecker that was.Months we spend drilling our home in these hard trees,Then one awful day our homes fell thundering down.Some of us tried to live nearby, but in our searchFor food, hawks grabbed and mauled usAs we flew over this exposed ground.Others were followed back to their nests,Their young devoured. Many of us were too oldTo build our homes again, so eventuallyWe all died.

TRAVELERAlas, poor bird! And so you wander forever,Lamenting the irretrievable past.

MADWOMANI wander, yes, but do not mistake meFor a birdI am a flying squirrelWho once made my home in the trees.I found sustenance in the hardwoodsbeech,White oak, southern magnolia.But now they are gone, and our populationHas dwindled.

TRAVELER

Heavens, you are more changeable than Proteus!Yes, I think I see itthe bushyTail, the skin flap that holds you aloft

MADWOMANI am a black-tail deer, a spotted owl,A wild turkey, black bear, timberwolf.


7/18

All over North America my species are being decimated. We will be lost forever unless

something is done to save us!

TRAVELERYou must be every species alive,Speaking with a single tongue.

CHORUSTraveler, we have no tongue,Yet we too cry out.Amidst the pines that men desireStand hemlock, hickory, oak, and gum;Reduced to stumps, bulldozed and burned,All creatures that depend on usLanguish.And the sedgesbent lip, amphibious, woodbarkDo we not make hay and weaveMats and chair seats?Must the lady fern, resurrection fern, the sensitive fern that draws back when touched,Must our lovely green fans shade the ground no more?What tongues will speak for the ebony spleenwort,Green dragon, sweetspire, Solomons seal,Silver bell, false mint?

Amidst theTorn stumps of once noble trees

We lie withering and sereTrampled, bulldozed, or choking on poisonAnd a kingdom unspeakably rich,Older than Columbus, vanishes.

Must all this pass?Must mans madness overwhelmThe wealth that was here before he was born?Who will weep for the armadillos, the opossums,Frogs, lizards, and turtles,The fawns and nestling birds crushed

Under the falling, hapless trees.

Remove a single thread from lifesTapestry and the picture unravelsWho can tell what dire consequencesMight follow our vanishing?We are not alone, for all things


8/18

Communicate in a vast design;Everything has a purpose, from the tallestRedwood to the most disgusting fungus

Or worm.And he who destroys a piece of the picture,With each vanishing thread his ownSoul unravels.

TRAVELERMy warm blood freezes to hear this,And even this parched land cannot contain my tears.Can nothing grow here again?

MADWOMANThis soil was once a living thing,An invisible kingdom of worms and germsWorked unceasingly, unseen:Tilling the soil so the trees could breathe,Transforming the detritus of dead leaves,Dead flowers, dead insects and animals,Resurrecting them into the eternal living circle of the forest.

CHORUSNow they lie crushed by mans juggernautsBulldozed, compacted,The soil will not breathe again.

MADWOMANAnd the rain that this earth drank like nectarRuns off as though the world were wax.

CHORUSOnce rich soil turns to chunks of mudSpilling with the litter and debrisInto the rivers, scouring the banksAnd strangling the salmon with silt.

MADWOMANWhat the sun parchesThe wind and rain carry away.

CHORUSAnd as the groundwater shrinksAnd the springs dry up,


9/18

The last nutrients are washedWith pesticides, poisoned, into the river.

MADWOMANBut how long can mankind abuse the earthBefore the earth turns and casts him away?

CHORUSFor the earth is a person, a living thing.The Greeks called her Gaia, the Mother of us all.The earth was born, the earth grows old,The earth breathes and enjoys the sun.Do not let your vanity persuade you that manIs the center of the world:Your body is built by a million cells;Every hair, every organ performs its roleWorking together as a single soul.And every man in turn is but a cellAnd every fish, every fowl, every tree, every flower,Every mountain, river, or gust of wind;They each enact their peculiar rolesAnd collaborate to create a living whole.That whole is Gaia, and shes the Mother of us all.

MADWOMANAnd woe to the malignant, selfish soul

Who refuses to participate in the good of the whole.

CHORUSFor Gaia loves her children,But those who abuse herThose who threaten her very life,Who tear out the lungs of the world,Who clog her arteries with garbage,Who flay her skin and let it dry up in the sunIf she is to live, if her children are to survive,This virulent influence must be excreted

And disposed of like a disease.Gaia will heal herself, she will live,But woe to him who has injured her;He who has treated her worse than a slave,He who has treated her like a thing to be usedThen thrown away, his usefulness has passed,And he will be cast


10/18

Into the voidLike rubbish.

TRAVELERAs I listen to your words, I suspect that you are neitherMad, nor any common human being.I shudder, yet dare to ask your name:In whose presence have I the extreme privilege to stand?

MADWOMANEven if I tell you my name,What good would it do me now?Whats done is donethe world spinsAnd the deeds spun out by menMust have their ends, although those endsMay be stranger than any man has dreamed.You ask my name? Only call meThe Spirit of the Earth.

TRAVELERThe Spirit of the Earth!How strange it all sounds;You are the one who was violatedIn this shameful place,And now you wander here

MADWOMANAlone, forlorn,I am the goddess the Greeks

MADWOMAN and CHORUSCalled Gaia.

MADWOMANAnd now I wander hereAlone, forlorn.

(Exit MADWOMAN, slowly, during the following chorus.)

CHORUSAs the twilight begins to fall,And the few trees left standing cast their long shadows,A lonely wind sighs for the unmourned dead.And through that file of darkening green,Beneath the moons lurid light,


11/18

As the sun bleeds into the dusk,She goes like a ghost were not sure weve seen.Between the last tall trees that stand like sentinels

She leaves this desolate land;Slowly, like a burning candle,Into the dark she disappears.

(Enter MOUNTAIN MAN.)

MOUNTAIN MANHowdy there. I been pickin berries and nuts all day now, but I noticed it fixin to get darkand thought Id mosey on home. I live right on the other side them trees.

(As he points vaguely, he notices the TRAVELER.)Now that theres a species o varmint I caint say as I ever hoped to lay eyes on again. Whatthe heck you doin in these parts?

TRAVELERIm on vacation, come up into the mountains to get away from the city. Are you fromaround here?

MOUNTAIN MANYou might could say Im a rezeedent of this here vie-cinity.

TRAVELERIn that case, come over and have a seat. I want to ask you something.

MOUNTAIN MAN

Yeah, alrighty. (They sit.) So spit it upjist whut is it youre hankerin to hear?

TRAVELERWell, this might sound a little odd, but if you know anything about how this forest turnedinto such a wasteland within the space of a year, Id be much obliged if youd tell me.

MOUNTAIN MANWell Ill be bound fer glory. I lived here a purty good while, but I caint rightly say as Imacquainted with all the facts, ifya know what Im sayin

(Beat.)But seein how as we two just come to meet, I guess itd be purty dang near close to

rudeness the two of us just settin here like a coupla hunks o dirt, not breathin a word. SoIll tell ya what I know.

TRAVELERI would be forever in your debt.


12/18

MOUNTAIN MAN

Well, its like this. This here piece o barren wasteland used to be a forest so thick a soul justabout couldnt walk thoo it without trippin over somethin. I myself used to live under a

tree right about where youre settin. A trees mighty superior to a house, you know whatIm sayin, to live in? You dont got no mortgage or no landlord to worry about, its alreadybuilt sos you can move in or out as often as you please, and you dont gotta fret all the timebout kinfolk wantin to spend the night.

(Beat.)Well. Anyway. One day this loggin company up and decided this woodd look mighty goodall sliced up into little pieces, so they got their machines together and headed over all readyto chop this place to smithereens. Well I was flabbergasted, as you might well imagine. Thisplace is my home, and its more than that. This here earth is likewell, doggone it, its likemy own motherI can just about feel the spirit of Mother Earth here sometimes, I justknow I can.

(Beat.)Well. Anyway. I consider myself a law abidin citizen for the most part, so I did right by thelawat first. I wrote my senators both ofem we got two, ya know. I wrote myrepresentative in Washington. I wrote my legislators. Heck, I even wrote the Prezeedent ofthe U.S. of A. A fine, fat load of a lotta good that did, I tell ya. They tol me dont worry, wegot laws to protect our national forests. If that there loggin company was comin in, it was because the Forest Service said they could, and the Forest Service dont never sell off nonational forests long as theres plenty left to be enjoyed. Well, as you might well imagine,that didnt do my turkey I can tell you wow. Them politicians in Washington dont care apea-pod what their constituents think. Theyre all too busy kow-towin to the rich andfamous folks that pay for their campaigns and run the T.V. stations, the radio stations, thenewspapers, the dadgum billboards I made up my mind right then and there I didnt owe

them politicians dang diddly squat. Id take care of this predicament my own way.(Long pause.)

Well. Anyway. I consider myself a peaceful-lovin soul for the most part. So I didnt wannahurt nobody, just put a stop to this craziness afore things got too outa hand. It was themdadbang machines I was after bulldozers, earthmovers, roadbuildin equipment. I putsugar in their gas tanks, sand in their radiators, gummed em up real good. But themloggers, they got em new machinery and put guards out to make sure that didnt happentwice. So then I changed my tactics and crawled outa the woodwork, so to speak. I aimed toshow them suckers I meant business. I chained myself to a tree. Well, all they did was go tothe other trees, so I chained myself to one of their own trucks. Well, after they drug medown the road a few hundred yards or so, they had the downright gall to turn me into the

police. After that they went about their business while I rotted in jail a few days. I can tellyou, I was about plumb fed up by now. But what was I to do?

(Very long pause as the MOUNTAIN MAN considers theTRAVELER carefully.)

Well. Anyway. I consider myself a rational man for the most part. And you tell me, if youwas to come home and theres a passel of degenerates rapin your wife and murderin yourown daughter and robbin you blind to boot, what are ya gonna do? Write your legislators?


13/18

Heck no! Youd gitcher loaded .44 outa the bedroom closet and blowem all to kingdomcome, thats what youd do, am I right? Am I right? Well, by this time they was just aboutdone cuttin down ever last tree, and Im just one man against who knows how many, so

what was I to do? But I had myself an ideer. I got myself a basket of four-inch steel spikesfrom the hardware store, and I drove em into as many trees as I could git to. Plumb ruineda coupla their big ol chain saws, but they was almost done cuttin anyway. It didnt keepem from bulldozin the whole place and poisonin everthing soze the underbrush couldntgrow back. I was in the Slough of Despond, as you might well call it. But then when I wasin town one day, I saw it on the front page of the daily newspaper. One of them employeesof that there loggin company was workin in a sawmill slicin up them trees theydslaughtered, when one of them spikes snagged the blade of that machine and a sliver of itbroke off, smacked im in the face, and plumb near took his head clean off! Now thats notwhat I wanted a-tall, it shouldnta come to that. Course nobody forced them loggers to cutdown them trees, you know what I mean? Still, I felt real bad about it, though.

(Long pause.)Well, thats the story best as I can tell it.

TRAVELERSir, youve told me more than I dared hope for. I appreciate your time, and your frankness.

MOUNTAIN MANBut why are you so interested? I got a notion theres somethin you aint told me.

TRAVELERThe reason I asked you isnt terribly important. I came up here on a hiking trip, as I said,but I met an elderly woman as soon as I stepped past that cosmetic row of trees lining the

side of the road. At first I thought she was mad; she claimed to be a bird, a squirrel, all sortsof animals and plantsI thought she would lay claim to being the earth itself, then shewandered away.

MOUNTAIN MANLand sakes alive and ever! You sawer face to face. That old woman you just spoke to wasnone other than the spirit of Mother Earth: Gaia herself! Youve truly been blessed, mister,I can tell you that. Hoo, boy, there aint many shes condescended to show her face to.

TRAVELERIm sure she appreciates what youve done for her, and youve certainly inspired me. But

you do realize you went too far, dont you? After all, what you did was against the law.

MOUNTAIN MANWhat Harriet Tubman did was against the law! What Thoreau did was against the law!What Ghandi did was against the law! When the laws wrong, its a sin to keep it; you knowwhat Im sayin?


14/18

TRAVELER

But you cant justify endangering the lives of human beings in order to protect trees.Violence only begets more violence.

MOUNTAIN MANWell, when the situations serious enough you do what you gotta do, and this situationspurt-tee far gone. I sorta consider myself the moral equivalent of our founding fathers, youknow what Im sayin? Remember Harpers Ferry! Remember the Boston Tea Party!

TRAVELERIf its all the same to you, Ill remember the Montgomery bus boycott.

MOUNTAIN MANHey, no problem at all, I can respect that. In this life, we each gotta choose the road wethinks goin the right direction, and if we stick to itwho knows? Maybe one of usll gitwhere hes goin. And seein as how late it is, Id best be moseyin on home afore it gits toodark. If you need anything, just holler. Im right behind those trees over yonder.

TRAVELERIll keep that in mind, thank you.

MOUNTAIN MANNo bother at all, good feller.

(Exit MOUNTAIN MAN.)

TRAVELER

What a strange fellow.And how strange the night is!The moons cold light is swallowed upBy clouds of bright lead;For a thousand miles the clouds hang heavyAnd I feel a chill wind blowThe wind that portends a spring rain.The world is so silent, so still, so quiet.This is a night for dreams,Yet my mind is as empty as death:No memory, no thought, no hope, no fear,

My spirit is as still as glass.(Enter MADWOMAN, transformed into GAIA and robed insplendor.)

GAIAMy name is Gaia: I am the earthFrom whose swollen mystery burst forth


15/18

All the dazzling miracles of life.From the bowels of death I raise up all living things,And every creature that I bring forth

Returns to me in death.I burn a pathway for the sun and moonAnd stars; I shine in harvest grain;In the sparkle of the lakes I glitter.I am the moss-green brook that writhesAcross the summer meadow like a snake.I am the invisible mystery of the wind;The perfumed exhalations of the rose;And here, in this fragile majesty, I liveAdorned in robes of forest green.

TRAVELERWondrous! How strange this is!Although the sun set long ago,My eyes dazzle at the brillianceRevealed to me in this place.That old woman I once thought madReturns to me arrayed in splendor,And before my undeserving eyesHer mystery unfolds.

Now I knowWithout doubt your name is Gaia.

GAIAMankind I brought forth to be my steward,And in return he has treated me like trash.

TRAVELEREvery year until this momentI have wandered like a blind man,Ignorant of the treasures ruinedBy the way I chose to live.An old woman appeared to me

And for the first time I understand:No one is alone, I see.And even the most trivial actA crook of the finger, a single glanceMay reverberate around the globe,Echoing wildlyDown the vast


16/18

GalleryOf time,With irreversible consequences we cannot begin to imagine.

GAIAAlthough my love is infinite and I know how to forbear,Patience must be tempered by the fire of justiceLest death creep through the door unseenAnd usurp all.

Wake up, therefore, mankind:See how I turn the elements against you!

CHORUSSky, crack open and let spill the fireOf the angry sun! Burn the frailSkin of man, pock his bodyWith cancers. Dry up the land:Where vines once thrived, let deserts spread.Shift the crop zones away from whereMen live! Glaciers, touched with fire,Melt down till you swell the seasAnd flood the teeming coasts with saltwater.Streams and groundwater, vanish like a dream!Ill send great hurricanes to sweep awayThe parched remnants strewn about

A once fertile land consumed by drought.And pestilences, prey of now extinct species,Multiply till you blacken the sky with your terror.

TRAVELERCan you offer the world no words of hope?

GAIACertain laws were written before I was born.

TRAVELER

Say there is still time to change!

GAIAWhat is done cannot be undone.

TRAVELERI am no longer the man I was!


17/18

GAIA

Every action must have its end.

TRAVELERBut cant that end somehow be altered?

GAIAThe wheel is spinning far too fast.

TRAVELERI offer myself as a righteous remnantSay what to do and it is good as done.

GAIAWe teeter on the edge of history,And I see little hope for mankind.But yourheart has changed; perhaps you can changeThe hearts of your fellow men.If you would heal the world,First transform humanity:Burn the dense weeds of ignoranceWith the cleansing flame of knowledge, and letA bounteous forest of generosity riseFrom the enriched soil of responsibility.

Then till this barren land; fill it with trees

All manner of trees, not just thoseOf use to you. Let them thrive,Let the thickets thicken and the grass grow,Let the birds build nests in the branches,Let the squirrels and the rabbits run wild.Live simplyuse only what you need,And reuse what you use.The worlds storehouses are large, but they are not infinite.Replenish the earth, then leave it alone.

CHORUS

Traveler, see how the silvery-pink morningBlooms, and the earth wakensUnder the cool mist of dawn.What is that fragrance waftingFrom behind the dark pines?A flower I thought had witheredSeems to blossom again,


18/18

Showing me colors I had forgotten long ago.

GAIA

What is done cannot be undone,And every action must have its end;But perhaps this end can still be alteredPerhaps with a change of heart.

When man trades his ignorance for knowledge,Cruelty for compassion,Greed for generosity,Competition for cooperation,Recklessness for responsibility;Then he will see that he isA part of nature, not apart from nature.He will see the earth as a person to be cherished,Not an object to be exploited.And ancient wounds can be healed,This desolation rebuilt,The rivers will flow againClear and shining,The trees will grow again,The birds will sing and the animals roam,And man and earth will join togetherIn the never-ending dance of life.

(Exeunt GAIA and TRAVELER, hand in hand.)

CHORUSSo this is the way our story ends,This is the way our story ends,Hand in hand,Earth and man,The wrong path started,But here departed,Destruction avertedBy the hearts rebirth.

Perhaps it is not too late for Planet Earth.

THE END

Documents

Earth Spirit